Tag: sort

How not to look like a fat frump when pregnant

You will notice, because you are smart, that I almost never promote anything on this blog. “Oh it’s too much like hard work,” I say to the occasional food person who gets in touch wondering if I’d like a free packet of spelt. “I’m so lazy,” I say. “I’ll never get round to it, sorry.”

But the fact is that I’m not interested in food freebies. (Sometimes I wonder whether I’m interested in food full stop.) If I want something for free I will say to my husband: “I want some rare albino truffle please,” and he will make a phonecall and it will turn up on my doorstep and I won’t even have to write about it.

But clothes? Cloooooothes?? Special nice clothes for preggy ladies that don’t make you look fat or pinch your bump or squish your boobs?

“Do you want some?” asked my friend Celia. “From ME+EM. We want you to be a sort of brand ambassador.”

“FUCK YEAH” I screamed. I didn’t even stop to say “Oh but why me? I’m so shit and fat and ugly. You don’t want me, you want someone more glamorous and interesting.” No, I did NOT say that, I just asked how much stuff I could have. Should I hire a parcel van to drive to the shop? Because I can do one on my Addison Lee app…

Then I immediately started to fret about it, as I always do. That the clothes wouldn’t fit or wouldn’t be nice and I would take a lot and then not wear them but have to be nice about them anyway. And then I would break our special bond, the one where I tell you the absolute truth about absolutely everything and don’t try and sell you anything, ever.

Don’t worry. I am not leading you a merry dance. This shit is for real. It’s amazing. There are dresses here that make you look, if you’re under, say, 20-24 weeks like you’re not pregnant. Especially from the front. And after that, they just expand like magic so even though you look like a Sherman tank, you feel comfy.

Pregnancy wear is mostly so so horrible. Massive floaty things with a big print. But this is all terrifically chic. And THE best long-length jersey vests and long-sleeved t-shirts EVAH.

THERE’S EVEN A SALE ON RIGHT NOW!!!

These are the things I got, which are particularly excellent and I recommend to you, pregnant or not. More original, I think, and better fabrics than Isabella Oliver or Seraphine – though God bless them both, eh? Where would we be without them.

On the ME+EM website they do a thing where they use skinny models for all the clothes, so you can’t really imagine how they would work on a massive pregnant arse and giant blobby tits, so this is my edit for anyone with a blubbery mess to cover up.

Just think of me like a very badass Gwyneth Paltrow, yeah?

Almost all of this comes in different colours and is available HERE. The sizing is very generous. I am 5’6” and weigh in at 10 stone 3.5 and fit into a small.

Crepe swing dress. MAKES YOU LOOK NOT PREGNANT. £104. You will wear it everywhere and it’s crepe so it won’t get bobbles.

Tuck neck swing dress. This is just so cool, such a nice shape. Great with long boots, ankle boots or little slippers. £115. I will be wearing this on Christmas Day.



Extra long layer T. The last word in long-length long-sleeved tops. Soft as a kitten. £42. There are also excellent vests at £19 each. Fucking BARGAIN.

V-neck box pleat dress. Very similar to one at Isabella Oliver but a nicer colour, a more slimming fit and less expensive at £104

An amazing thing. If you only get one thing when you are pregnant, get this. It is sort of drapey and concealing without being heavyweight so you don’t end up looking like a piece of soft furniture. It also has lovely long sleeves. I plan to wear mine until it has holes in it. Knit sleeve 3/4 jacket – £119

And a snood. Because I’ve decided that I hate scarves. Wide rib snood – £68
 

Happy shopping and have a great weekend.

 

Recipe Rifle: a digital original

Last year, in secret, I spent an awfully long time trying to get someone to publish Recipe Rifle as a book, but in the end failed.

It was a perfectly ghastly experience, looking back. At the time it seemed sort of fun, a respite from the tedious task of administering to a small baby. But in actual fact it was just disappointment after disappointment, I existed in a horrid limbo. Hopes up, hopes dashed. Eventually, total disaster, angry words and a general collapse. I wasn’t really surprised: dancing in front of a weary, malfunctioning publishing industry, chronically unable to sell myself, I often said things in meetings like “You know, the way things are at the moment, I probably wouldn’t take this book on if I were you.”

And, worse, these publishing people would say to me: “Why would someone buy this book? I mean, why would they pick it up in Waterstones?” By the third time I heard this I would want, powerfully, to claw their eyes out, kick them in the stomach and scream “You tell me you fucking idiot! That’s your job not mine! Jesus fucking Christ, no wonder the whole damn thing is collapsing round your ears if you’re asking me why someone would buy a freaking book. I’m going home.

But I did not do that.

Instead I cut all ties to that miserable year, sulked in my tent for a while, then sought out instead The Friday Project, a publishing house that specialises in bringing blogs to a wider audience. And when I say that, I mean that they make it possible for otherwise unpublishable authors (that’s me) to sell their work, without it being considered “vanity” (i.e. “mad”) publishing.

The bloke who runs The Friday Project, Scott, is terrific. He doesn’t ask me who will buy my book. He doesn’t ask me, looking worried, how I think I am going to turn the blog into a “story”. He just said “Put together whatever you think is best and maybe some people will buy it if they like it.”

“Will you make it really cheap?” I asked, anxiously. “I mean, like, 50p so it’s crazy not to buy it, like a vest top from H&M??”

“Not that cheap,” he said. “But not expensive either.”

The catch is that you will only be able to buy it online and read it on your iPad or Kindle or other e-reader, (unless it becomes a freak hit and the cost of printing the book becomes negligable). A “digital original”, they call it, with graceful euphemism. and I don’t get an advance, I am only paid for what I sell. But frankly with my shitty attitude that’s a good thing. Give me money and I won’t do anything. Give me a deadline and the possibility of money and I will work. A bit.

SO – my readers, my lovely, lovely readers who have been with me through thick and thin, through marriage, births, ups and downs (no deaths – yet) do you have a favourite post that you think I ought to definitely include? One that you can recall made you laugh? Are there any that were really bad – have I had a dodgy patch? Am I boring when I bang on about a certain thing?

Tell me! Tell me, tell me. I have to file my first draft in October.

BE HONEST.

Toddler lunch

Kitty will eat perhaps a third of this

I have recently noticed an unusually high number of women confiding in me that their toddler hardly eats anything. “He’s only eaten two of those Organix carrot stick thingies today,” said one on Twitter. “And I bet he won’t eat anything else for the rest of the day.” Others fret about fruit and vegetables. “How,” they whisper, “do you get Kitty to eat vegetables?”

Answer: I DON’T. I read, earlier this year, a book that changed my attitude towards Kitty’s diet and therefore my whole life, as I was so neurotic and anxious about what she ate. The book was called My Child Won’t Eat! by a Spanish nutritionist called Carlos Gonzalez and it is the most brilliant book on childcare I have ever read. And as you can imagine, I’ve read a lot.

He basically says this:

1 It doesn’t matter how much your child eats. Your child is not small and spindly because it doesn’t eat, it doesn’t eat because it is a small and spindly child. You cannot, he says, turn a chihuahua into an Alsatian by making it eat a lot.

2 Your child will naturally, as long as he is given a range of food to choose from, balance his own diet. It might seem like the child eats no fruit or veg, but even a little lick of broccoli here, a nibbled end of carrot there, a tiny bit of apple somewhere else, will fulfill his nutritional needs. The important thing is that fruit and veg are offered, not that they are always finished.

Small children, says Gonzalez, have tiny tummies so they go for very calorific, high energy foods – cake, sweeties, chips, toast, crisps etc; fruit and veg are all very well but they are mostly water and fibre, useless is large quantities to the small stomach.

Children in deprived areas, (like in the Third World), will become malnourished faster than adults because they cannot physically fit enough of the sort of food that is available (vegetation, berries) in their tummies in order to draw out the relevant nutrients and calories.

3 You are very unlikely to be able to cajole, bribe or force your child to eat more than it wants to, to the extent that you will alter the child’s food intake in any significant way.

So, he says, don’t bother. You will only upset yourself and the child.

Put the food in front of the child, let the child/children get on with it for a reasonable amount of time and say nothing about uneaten food. Never try to get more food in than they want. No “here comes the airplane” or “you have to eat this or no pudding” or anything.

“Hurrah!” I screamed, after finishing the book. I threw it over my shoulder, rubbed my hands together and vowed from that day forth not to give a shit about how much Kitty eats.

She gets food, three times a day, with snacks. She gets carbohydrate and fruit and vegetables. But I do not care – DO NOT CARE – how much she eats. I cannot begin to tell you what a release it has been.

And, further, I have now banned any cooking at lunchtimes. She gets a cold lunch every day and she loves it. She has

1 carbohydrate – crackers, bread and butter
1 sort of cheese – chedder, Jarg, Dairylea, mini baby bell, whatever’s floating about
1 veg – carrot sticks, cucumber, baby tomatoes or a bit of sweet pepper
1 dollop of hummous if we’ve got some
1 protein – some leftover chicken, or ham, or a mini pork pie

Then she has some fruit and a biscuit.

And I can’t tell you how great it is not to have to cook or fucking wash up pots and pans at lunchtime as well as dinner time. And there isn’t a big hot lunch stink about the house AND if she’s not in the mood to eat much, you can usually put back the uneaten stuff rather than throw an entire fish-pie-and-rice concoction in the bin.

I feel like women must have felt when they first started doling out the Pill – liberated. I feel, in fact, as relieved as when I confessed to Kitty’s paediatrician Dr Mike, (when Kitty had a fever of 104 for three days), that I was worried that she would get brain damage and he said: “When was the last time you heard of someone getting brain damage from a fever?” And I said “Err,” and he said “Unless you put her, with her temperature of 104, in a sauna, she isn’t going to get brain damage.” And I said “Ok,” and have ceased to worry about fevers, too.

One can wind oneself up terribly about the strangest things, when there are so many better things to get your knickers in a twist over. Like steaming!! I have had the most terrific feedback on my miracle cure and have already this morning dispensed two separate specific steaming instruction miracle cures.

I can die happy.

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